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by Hannah Reed


  “What missing earring?”

  “Don’t they tell you anything in here?”

  “Nobody tells me anything. My lawyer hasn’t even been in since I hired him.”

  So I told Clay about the one earring Faye had been wearing when Hunter and I’d found her, and how the police hadn’t been able to locate it until it showed up on my desk. And how Clay had to talk to me, tell me the truth, if I was going to be able to help him.

  When I finished, Clay said, “Sounds like you want to help yourself, not me. In fact, I’m not sure why I’m in here and you’re out there.”

  “You’ll benefit from anything I find. Why do you care why I’m doing it, as long as it helps you get out of jail?”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “The whole truth and nothing but the truth. Let’s start with why you and Faye were fighting and why she left your house that night?”

  “We were fighting about stupid stuff, and I got mad and said the only reason I was going with her was because she reminded me of you. She didn’t like that and stomped off. We would have made up if she hadn’t been killed.”

  “Tell me the rest. What’s going on with you and Grace Chapman? I want confirmation one way or the other.”

  What I heard left me without any forward steam. My stack of theory cards had fallen. The scoop I got was that:

  • Grace had called Clay last Thursday night, sounding desperate and upset, and had said she needed to meet with him, but didn’t want anyone to know.

  • He invited her over to his house, thinking maybe in her weakened state they’d get it on (his own words).

  • Instead, Grace had wanted information on Manny and me, all the sordid details, as she called them, and she thought Clay would be honest and direct with her.

  • She obviously didn’t know Clay at all.

  “I was surprised that you’d want to be with another man,” Clay said. “But I let her think I knew something about it, in case she needed a shoulder to cry on.”

  Ugh. I was so glad I’d dumped this slime ball! “You weren’t having an affair with Grace Chapman?”

  “Not that I wouldn’t have given it a go, once or twice.”

  “That’s the rumor going around. That you two were an item, sneaking around behind Manny’s back.”

  Clay smiled like he was proud of himself.

  “What about you and Manny?” he asked. “She seemed to think something was up with you and him.”

  “Never happened,” I said. “Who told Grace that tall tale?”

  “Probably Patti,” Clay said.

  “No one should ever believe Patti,” I said. “Ever. She’s the one who started the rumor about you and Grace, after she saw Grace go into your house. That’s all the so-called proof she needed to start circulating lies. Did you know she has a telescope and spies on us inside our homes?”

  “Sure, I know. That’s why I strut in front of the window naked.”

  “I thought you were trying to impress me.”

  “It is impressive, isn’t it?”

  “Very funny, but get serious for a change. I need a promise from you if I’m going to traipse around the countryside, risking my life.”

  “Anything, honey.”

  “Don’t call me that ever again.”

  “That’s it? That’s all I have to do for you?”

  “No. When you get out, you have to move away, out of Moraine, even out of Waukesha County.”

  “You’re breaking my heart with your coldness.”

  “Is it a deal?”

  “Deal,” Clay said. “I don’t especially like it here anyway, and if you’re not coming back to me—”

  With that, I made a hasty exit.

  Thirty-three

  Friday morning, my sister did not arrive in time to help open The Wild Clover per Mom’s orders, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Between working the cash register and giving everybody updates on Carrie Ann’s health, the robbery, and the dead woman’s earring found on my desk, I had a hectic few hours without her.

  Not to mention all the effort of trying to reverse certain reputation-damaging rumors. Holly would be proud of me. Not that I was going to tell her that I had bought into the gossip to the point that I thought Grace had murdered Manny to be with Clay.

  Holly did manage to walk in the door by ten o’clock, one whole hour earlier than her regular shift. By then Ray Goodwin had already made a large delivery, in spite of my constant reminders to deliver after three o’clock in the afternoon when strong young male workers were around to help stock shelves. Ray seemed to hate anything smacking of authority and so instead, wasted time doing the opposite of whatever he was asked to do. He had a you-aren’t-the-boss-of-me attitude, which clearly hadn’t taken him very far, career-wise.

  “Did you pick up that honey from Grace’s?” I asked him.

  “Didn’t know you needed it right this minute.” He put special emphasis on the last word like I was nagging him.

  “I don’t really, but soon, okay?”

  Ray shrugged. “I’ll get to it.”

  I rolled my eyes and went back inside. “Call over to the Craigs,” I said to Holly, noting how great she looked. Rested and carefree. “See if one of the twins can come in early to help stock, ASAP.”

  Holly gazed at the boxes of produce still waiting to be moved to the bins and shelves and nodded. “Better them than me. I didn’t sign on to do heavy lifting.”

  “Right. Since the boxes are strategically placed right next to where they need to go, you must be referring to hefting those two-ton tomatoes from box to bin.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I love you,” I said, surprising myself. I floored Holly, too, because she stopped and stared. “I couldn’t have managed this last week without you,” I told her.

  I’ve never seen my sister smile quite that wide. “Thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I agreed. “Hey, guess what? Hunter and I have a date tomorrow night.”

  “I knew something was up! Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know.” Which was true. We hadn’t discussed it. Saturday night was coming up fast and I had a real date. Where we went didn’t matter one bit.

  Lori showed up for her two or three items as usual, making her one of our daily customers, which had to be intentional on her part. The woman was so annoying, she liked to irritate me on a regular basis.

  “Any luck selling Manny’s home?” I asked her, really hoping this particular sale went nowhere. Manny hadn’t wanted to sell and I wished everybody would respect his wishes, at least for a while.

  “As a matter of fact, I am negotiating a deal on the Chapman property,” Lori gloated. “But I can’t talk about it at the moment.”

  “Then why are you?” Holly said, earning a glare from Lori.

  “Who’s making the offer?” I wanted to know.

  “You wouldn’t know the name.”

  “Try me.”

  “Confidential information,” Lori said, flouncing toward the door. “Once the deal is done, you’ll be one of the first to know.”

  I called Grace.

  “I want to rectify any wrongs,” I said to Grace when she answered her phone. I wanted to ask her about selling out, but first I had to mend fences. “Once and for all, I want to squash both rumors going around—the one about you and the one about me. And I’d like your help.”

  “What rumor about me?”

  I took a deep breath and plowed in. “That you and Clay were having an affair.”

  “Are you spreading lies about me?” Her voice had risen to a range unknown to humankind. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”

  “NO! Wait! It was P. P. Patti who’s been spreading it, after she saw you at Clay’s house. But I know why you went there and I’m going to fix the damage Patti did.”

  “How? Are you going to tell people the real truth? That I only went to Clay because I wanted honesty about you and Manny and I tho
ught he might answer my questions? Maybe you could start with telling me the truth about you and my husband.”

  This wasn’t going well.

  “Patti started that one, too. She’s a menace, destroying families and relationships. Manny was my friend and that’s as far as it ever went. He loved you.”

  Grace started crying.

  “Look,” I said, “I’ll get Patti to tell you the truth, that she started the rumor and that it was all a lie. Okay?”

  I thought I heard her say “okay,” before she hung up, but her voice was so low and so anguished, I wasn’t sure whether she’d agreed to my plan.

  Honeybees work together in fine-tuned harmony, making sure their hives are functioning as they should. Humans could learn a few things from watching bees, since we spend as much time hurting each other as helping.

  When a field bee comes in carrying pollen in her leg pouches, worker bees meet her at the entryway and help her unload. They don’t have to be asked to pitch in. They just do it. Teamwork. Flowers and bees also form partnerships, helping each other out. The flower gives pollen to the honeybee so she can make food for her hive. The flower benefits when her pollen is moved along to other flowers for fertilization.

  Teamwork. That’s what I was hoping for.

  Grace, Patti, and I sat in a tight circle inside the storage room, almost bumping knees. Grace wore pain and suffering on her plain face. Patti sported bold righteousness, and I was just plain worn out from pettiness and unnecessary lies when bigger, more dangerous events were playing out beneath the surface.

  “As you know, we are here to speak the truth,” I said. “Patti, you saw Grace go into Clay’s house.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you told people that she was having an affair with him.”

  Patti squirmed. Not much, but I saw it in her eyes. The left/right thing she did when she felt cornered. “No,” she said. “I didn’t say anything of the kind.”

  “See?” Grace said.

  “Patti, you tell Grace the truth or I swear, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  What I wanted to say was I would kill her with my bare hands in front of witnesses.

  “You don’t mean that!” Patti said. “And I am telling the truth.”

  “Oh, yes, I do mean it. And you won’t be welcome in The Wild Clover. Come on, Grace needs to know. Tell her.”

  Patti crossed her arms and set her jaw.

  “You watched her through your telescope,” I prompted.

  That made Grace sit up and take notice. “You have a telescope?” she asked Patti.

  “For bird watching,” Patti said.

  And peeping-Patti-ing, I thought, but didn’t say. Instead I said, “Clay can tell you all about how she spies on him with her stupid telescope.”

  Grace pushed her chair back to get up. I gripped her arm. “Please don’t go yet.” I tried not to sound pleading, but I think I failed. Grace sat back down, though.

  “Now then,” I said, trying a different tactic. “Grace heard a rumor about Manny and me. Could we at least clear that up?”

  “Okay,” Patti said, still wary.

  “Please tell Grace it isn’t true.”

  “But it is.”

  I glared at Patti. My efforts to put things right had taken a left turn and were going south. “You can’t really believe that!” I said.

  “I believe my eyes,” Patti said. “They never lie.”

  “You are totally making that up. Manny and I were never together in a romantic way.”

  Patti gave me a glare back. “Then why did he come up from the river and sneak up to your house?”

  My mouth dropped open.

  Grace got up and left, slamming the door to the storage room when she left.

  I went for Patti but fell over Grace’s chair, landing in the center of the circle of chairs.

  Patti yelled for help when I sprang back up. Perhaps she saw the murderous look in my eyes because she hit me with her purse, which must have been loaded with thousands of heavy coins. I sat back down, but only for a second.

  I staggered to my feet and grabbed the front of her top, hearing a rip.

  My sister rushed in and wrestled me down.

  Then I remembered what Stu had told me about Manny taking his canoe out on the river.

  By then Patti had disappeared, running for her life.

  Thirty-four

  “I believe you,” I said to Patti when she finally answered her phone. “Please don’t hang up.”

  “That apology you gave me the other day about future apologies is worn out. I’m calling the police chief if you don’t stay away from me. Assault is a serious offense.”

  “You’re the one who struck first with that loaded purse of yours.” I held an ice pack on my head, hoping to keep the swelling down.

  “You tried to kill me,” Patti said.

  “Oh, yeah, right.”

  “I’m hanging up.”

  “No, wait. Please. I really do believe you.”

  “I said before that all my observations are based on facts. I have concrete facts on you and Manny.”

  She had said that she always had facts to back up her claims now that I thought back on our custard stop, but I’d missed it at the time.

  “If Manny came to my house, it’s news to me,” I said. “As far as I know, Manny hadn’t been to my house since last spring when he helped me introduce my bees to the hives.”

  “I saw him. That’s all I know.”

  “When?”

  “About five or six days before those bees stung him to death. I was having my raccoon problem then. I probably told you how they destroyed my house and how much money they cost. I’d just set the trap, and gone back inside.”

  “Five or six days before he died,” I repeated. That fit what Stu had said about Manny asking to borrow the canoe. It also gave the false rumor about us plenty of time to have reached Grace before her Thursday visit to Clay. “What exactly did you see? Tell me.”

  “It was almost dark. Good thing I was at the window at that same moment or I would have missed it completely. I saw Manny paddle up to your backyard, pull the canoe to shore, and walk toward your house, staying in the shadows. I couldn’t see much after that, but believe you me, I tried.”

  “You could be mistaken, if it was that dark.”

  “You have that light out by the river. I saw him clear as day until he walked out of its beam of light. It was Manny Chapman and he was definitely sneaking around.”

  “Was I home?”

  “You sure were and you know it. I saw you through your window, then you moved into a different room where my view was obstructed.”

  “You saw him go to my door?”

  “I didn’t have to. I’m not dumb, you know. And I don’t lie.”

  Now that Patti mentioned the whole lying thing, I realized that I hadn’t really ever caught her in any outright lies. Mostly she just stretched the truth until it transformed into a completely different shape than it’d started out.

  “I can’t believe this,” I said.

  “I’ve got to go.” With that, she hung up.

  Even P. P. Patti didn’t want to be my friend anymore.

  But I had bigger problems to solve, because Patti might actually have had some basis for thinking that Manny and I were carrying on behind Grace’s back. Flimsy, though, if what she said was based on real observations versus creative fiction. But Stu had pretty much corroborated it, saying that Manny had taken off in his canoe around the same time, heading downstream. That would have taken him right past my house.

  So why didn’t I know anything about it? Why would Manny come over without ever announcing himself?

  This was too weird.

  “How’s the head?” Holly asked, coming into the back room. She pulled the ice pack away and fingered my head knot.

  “Ouch,” I said. “Don’t touch.”

  “She really clocked you.”

  “You should have restrained Pat
ti, not me. She was the menace.”

  “You looked more likely to do major damage. Now tell me the story.”

  My younger sister clucked over me like a mother hen while taking in the facts as I laid them out.

  When I finished, neither of us had a clue what was going on.

  “Anybody minding the store?” Someone called from the front.

  Holly said, “BBL (Be Back Later),” and bounced away to take care of customers, leaving me with my dark thoughts.

  What a confusing mess! And it all came back to the same small circle—Manny, Grace, Clay, Faye, and me. One of us was in jail and two of us were dead.

  And how did Stanley Peck fit in to the equation? An entire apiary was missing, and Stanley was studying up on bees with library books.

  Then of course there was big-mouthed Patti and all the trouble she’d caused. Grace would never have thought anything bad about Manny and me if P. P. Patti hadn’t spread it around. Was she up to more than just destroying reputations?

  If Grace didn’t kill her husband to be with Clay, might she have killed him because she thought he was having an affair with me?

  That had possibilities, but how did that explain Faye’s murder? Nothing was adding up.

  Process of elimination. That was the only way. I’d start with Stanley, since he was much more approachable than Grace or Patti were at the moment.

  When Stanley came into the market in the early afternoon, I said to him, “I’d like to get started in chickens.” I knew that Stanley raised a few himself.

  He looked surprised. “Don’t you have your hands full as it is?”

  “I’m busy, but how much work could a few chickens take? I have that little shed out back where we had chickens when I was a kid. They can stay in there at night and scratch around the yard eating bugs and laying eggs for me during the day. Chickens are the latest craze in the back-to-the-earth movement, in case you haven’t been paying attention.”

 

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